


The Path Not Taken

by Katerinaki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cute Kids, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-06-07 12:29:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6804076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katerinaki/pseuds/Katerinaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape dies in the Shrieking Shack and wakes up to a curious little girl. Inspired by Lily-Fox on Deviant Art.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Path Not Taken:

When one is dying, there are many things that pass through one’s mind. Fear is nearly overwhelming. Even if dying is wanted, is asked for, fear is unavoidable as a small, overriding part of the mind questions everything you believe. What if it’s all wrong? What if this truly is everything? If the fear somehow does not consume all brain function, then regrets surface. The mind will always choose to wander the path not taken, especially in the moment there is no hope to ever try.

Severus Snape had many regrets. He’d lived his life in regret and it seemed fitting that he went to his death with those regrets first in his mind. As he lay bleeding out on the floor of the Shrieking Shack with Nagini’s venom burning through his veins, his greatest regret gurgled through the blood on his lips to linger over the sad, pathetic scene.

“… _Lily_ …”

It was always Lily. It had always been Lily, from the moment he met her to the moment he lost her, to the moment he sealed her fate. Lily was always and would forever remain his biggest regret. All of him was consumed in his atonement and now, at last, he could sacrifice himself and his pitiful existence for her.

As Severus Snape closed his eyes for the last time, the fear could not reach him. Only his regret. Lily.

Death was quite comfortable. It was quiet, soft, and peaceful. Severus wasn’t expecting that. He was sure only the deepest circle of Hell was for traitors the likes of him. But this, this was almost pleasant.

Until something poked him in the arm. He ignored it at first. It was much better to simply lay in peace than to try to open his eyes and determine what annoyed him. But it happened again. It wasn’t particularly hard or annoying, just insistent, demanding his attention. He couldn’t ignore it for all eternity, so he opened his eyes.

There, resting her elbows on the edge of a bed, was a little girl. She was perhaps five or six-years-old, but neither her presence nor her age was what shocked him. She had his eyes. Dark, brown eyes in a soft, round face with a fringe of fiery, red hair threatening to cover them over. She propped her chin on her hands and smiled gently at him.

“Are you awake?”

What a strange question to ask a dead man. _Was_ he awake? Was this the afterlife or merely a hallucination brought on in the last moments of his life? Severus found himself reaching out for her, running his fingers through her soft hair. Not a ghost; he could feel the warmth of her skin and his fingers got tangled in a few knots.

“Yes,” he murmured, his voice raspy, no doubt from the bite at his neck. He felt surprisingly strong, for a dying man. Maybe he was indeed already dead.

“Mummy says pancakes are ready.”

She stared at him expectantly for a long time but Severus didn’t know what to say.

“Alright,” he said at last.

“Love you, Daddy.” She crawled up and placed a kiss on his cheek before hopping off the bed and scurrying out the bedroom door. Severus didn’t even have a chance to ask what she meant.

Daddy. That’s what she called him. He knew then that all this was a hallucination. He was nobody’s father, let alone a “Daddy”. In all his years of bitter loneliness, he had made sure of that. Looking around the bedroom he was intrigued by how thorough this hallucination seemed. There, by his feet, slept a fluffy, white cat, the type Lily had always wanted though Severus thought it silly. He slept on the right side, but it seemed the other side was rumpled too, an indentation lingering on the pillow. On the far nightstand there was an alarm clock, a copy of Witch Weekly, and some sort of disfigured clay dish that was painted in garish red and green and held a few pieces of women’s jewelry. “Mummy’s”, perhaps? His own nightstand held a plain lamp, a leather-bound book, and a single photo frame. As his eyes fell to the moving figures in the image, his heart squeezed in his chest and he choked on his own breath.

It was Lily. She stood, giggling in a resplendent white gown with a long veil trailing down her back and gathering around her feet. She looked like an angel from heaven. He’d seen it before as he’d crouched in the bushes and watched James Potter steal the only woman he’d ever loved, irrevocably from his grasp. He’d promptly gone to drown out the memory with fire whiskey, but of the things he’d done that night, that memory had always remained. Even now it was here, in his hallucination, taunting him.

Except, as his eyes fell to the groom the memory grew hazy, overlapped with something else. Instead of peering through the leaves, an uninvited guest to her happiness, she stood before him and smiled. Her emerald green eyes danced in joy and laughter. She reached out her hands and Severus from the memory took them, running his thumbs over her knuckles.

“I do,” she told him.

There he stood with his arms wrapped around Lily’s waist, dressed in black dress robes and smiling down at his wife. He remembered that day. He remembered the reception that went on far too long and their honeymoon in Greece that was far too short. He remembered all these things that never happened, even in his deepest, most self-indulgent dreams.

Uncertainly, Severus sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed. He felt, perhaps not good, but better than he typically felt these days. His joints were a bit stiff and there was still the ever-lingering pain in his lower back from leaning over a cauldron for hours on end, but many of the usual aches he’d grown so used to over the years were gone. His hand shot up to his neck, but the skin there was smooth with not even a thin scar from Nagini’s bite.

It was all very confusing and surreal. Light-headed, Severus stood and padded on bare feet from the bedroom and down the stairs. Along the stairs were rows of family pictures. Severus recognized Lily’s parents from a still, Muggle photo. Amazingly enough there was a wizarding photo of his own mother, standing with her hand on his shoulder on Platform 9 ¾, both of them frowning at the camera. Next was another photo of he and Lily, this one taken under the tree by the Black Lake at Hogwarts. It had been a favorite spot of theirs, although this picture was impossible. They were both clearly in their seventh year as they leaned over a Charms book, but Lily hadn’t been speaking to him then. She had been dating Potter by that time, hadn’t she?

The next photo was a Muggle one of a boy, perhaps nine or ten. He was dressed in a Muggle school uniform and seated in front of some vague blue background, grinning at the camera. At first glance, Severus was sure it was Potter with the black hair and same bottle-green eyes as Lily. But the features weren’t right. The face was longer, the nose streamline. The boy’s hair fell around his ears with a little curl at the end and he wasn’t wearing glasses. Most of all, at Severus’ eyes wandered up to the boy’s forehead, it was the missing curse scar that told him this was not Harry Potter.

The next photo was of the little girl who’d woken him. She was grinning at the camera while cuddling the white fluffy cat from the bed. A name came to mind and the longer he watched the girl as she set the cat down and spun a little twirl, giggling, the more the name seemed right. Rose. Rosie with her family. She looked so much like her mother, but for her eyes. They were _his_ mother’s eyes. His eyes.

The white fluff ball scampered down the stairs, weaving through his legs, and nearly made him fall.

“Bloody cat!” he muttered, descending the last few steps and practically stumbling into the kitchen.

“Shay-shay! Be nice to Daddy!” Rosie scolded as Severus stepped into the bright, open kitchen. There was Rosie, crouching down to pet the damned cat. But his eyes immediately fell to a tumble of red curls and the woman who swayed to the music coming from the Wizarding Wireless on the counter as she flipped pancakes into a neat stack.

It was as if he’d been hit in the stomach with a bludger. All the air left his lungs in a rush and Severus didn’t dare to breathe for fear the apparition standing before him would suddenly disappear. He stood frozen in the doorway, drinking in the sight of her, a sight he was certain he would never see again.

_Lily._

She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her hair was a bit shorter, he noticed. Even dressed in simple Muggle jeans and a blouse, she was gorgeous. She turned to the young boy who sat at the table already eating his own breakfast.

“Harry, love, can you see what’s taking your father so—oh!” She spotted him lurking in the doorway and the morning Severus thought couldn’t get any better, did.

“Good morning, sleepy-head!” She set the plate of pancakes on the table before walking over to stand on her toes and plant a kiss on his lips. Severus wasn’t ready for it at all and Lily frowned as she looked up at him.

“What’s wrong, Sev?”

‘Absolutely nothing,’ he wanted to say. But his mind was still catching up from the shock of it all. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“You look so beautiful,” he murmured.

Lily slapped him on the arm but grinned nonetheless.

“None of that this morning, Mr. Snape,” she scolded playfully. “You promised you would take Harry to Diagon Alley for his supplies before the party today.”

Severus frowned. “What party?”

The boy from the picture, Harry, piped up from his seat at the table readily enough.

“My birthday party!”

The same part of him that told Severus Rosie’s name reminded him that Harry turned eleven today.

“I would go with you, but Rosie and I have to stay and get the house ready, right?”

“Right!” Rosie replied excitedly. “I want to decorate the cake with blue unicorns!”

Harry groaned. “Mum, please don’t let her!”

“Don’t worry, Harry, everything will be fine,” Lily assured her son. “And Rosie, remember it’s _Harry’s_ birthday. Maybe we can do unicorns for your birthday in March.”

Rosie frowned. “How long until March?”

“It’s next year, sweetheart.”

“But I don’t want to wait a _whole year_! Daddy?”

Severus was not prepared as Rosie looked up at him with big, searching brown eyes, her lip quivering slightly. He wanted to say yes to whatever she needed, just so he didn’t have to see such a heart-wrenching sight again.

But to Severus’ relief, Lily jumped in before he could offer her every unicorn in the Forbidden Forest.

“Rose Eileen Snape, none of that,” Lily scolded. “Come on, eat your breakfast before it’s cold. Sev could you cut that for her?”

Again he was put on the spot and he froze. He had been a spy for years, he shouldn’t be fumbling through whatever this was.

“Um, sure.” He sat down in the chair next to Rosie’s and began to cut the small stack of pancakes, automatically making even cuts like he was preparing potions ingredients. Rosie watched in fascination until he finished.

“Can I have syrup too?”

The idea of giving the little girl sugar was a terrifying one. But as she bats her eyelashes at him, there was simply no way for Severus to deny her. He took the bottle and poured syrup all over the plate.

“Sev, can you stop by the store when you’re out and make sure the new shipment of hellebore is _correct_ this time? Also we need more dittany for the house and Nightshade ate all the feathers off my quills so I’ll need a few more.”

“Sure,” he replied, though he had no idea what “the store” was, or who Nightshade was and why he was eating feathers.

Harry crammed the last few pieces of pancake into his mouth all at once.

“I’m done,” he declared through a full mouth. “Can we go?”

“Do not speak with your mouth full,” Severus scolded automatically.

Harry swallowed hard. “Sorry, Dad,” he replied, though he still downed his remaining pumpkin juice incredibly fast. “I’m ready to go.”

“Then why don’t you clean your plate and go make a list of which supplies you’ll need for Hogwarts,” Lily suggested as she took her seat beside him, across from Rosie.

“Yes, Mum,” Harry replied, taking his empty plate to the sink. He’d scrubbed it and was gone up the stairs in an instant.

“He’s very excited,” Lily commented with amusement as she nursed a cup of coffee. Severus had to admit that even with the threat of his father’s ire, he too had been thrilled on his first trip to Diagon Alley for his school supplies.

“You know Ron and Neville will want to spend the night after the party. I suspect Draco will too, though we’ll have to see what Narcissa says. I don’t mind if you’re alright with it.”

Frankly Severus wasn’t sure he was alright with _any_ of it. This perfect life that he seemed to be living was far too good to be true. He was sure at any moment the walls would crumble and it would all be lost. That would be true Hell, having a taste of happiness only for it to be ripped from his grasp for all eternity. Just the thought cut him like a knife.

He merely shrugged, not trusting his voice to be strong and sure.

Lily frowned as she peered at him over her cup of coffee.

“You’re very quiet this morning, love,” she murmured. She reached over and squeezed his forearm. Severus automatically flinched back. She’d touched his left arm, the one with the Dark Mark. Even in this strange dream world he couldn’t bear the thought of beautiful, kind, and good Lily touching something so dark, evil, and ugly. His reaction hurt her. He could see it in her eyes, the eyes he was sure he’d never see again, and the words came tumbling out of his mouth.

“Lily, I’m sorry.”

How he’d longed to say those words to her. I’m sorry for calling you a Mudblood. I’m sorry for betraying your trust. I’m sorry for ruining our friendship. I’m sorry for joining the Death Eaters and reporting the prophecy to the Dark Lord. I’m Sorry I couldn’t save you and I’m sorry for not being able to save your son either. I’m sorry that even now in this perfect dream, I still disappoint you.

He wanted to tell her everything, of the Dark Lord and Harry Potter and dying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, only to wake in this strange place which could be Heaven, or could be Hell. But he couldn’t tell her any of it. She would think him mad! He let go, running his hand nervously through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I just had a—“

Horrible death?

Disastrous life?

“A bad dream.”

To his surprise, Lily got up, walked around the table, and draped her arms over his shoulders. She planted a kiss on his cheek, her fingers wandering over the thin material of his shirt. It was…extraordinarily distracting.

“Was it the war again?”

The war? Again? As they had upon seeing the wedding photo and those of Harry and Rosie, new memories washed over his own. It was as if his mind was a pensieve and someone kept dumping new memories, ones that belonged to someone else. This time between memories of Death Eater meetings and Muggle killings he sat in Order meetings with Lily across from a young James Potter and Sirius Black who were _not_ trying to kill him. He remembered going to revels but he also remembered speaking to Lucius Malfoy in the shadows, convincing him that he would want to be on the _winning_ side, in the end. He remembered revealing Peter Pettigrew for the rat he was and he remembered being there the day Voldemort was defeated, watching Dumbledore best the Dark Lord once and for all. It was so different from anything he’d experienced before, and yet he’d still been a spy. He remembered that, and he also remembered keeping his marriage with Lily a secret for fear of repercussions. Lily had hated the whole thing, but she’d understood. His Lily always seemed to understand.

“Yes, a little bit,” he admitted. Part of it _was_ the war, in a way.

“You did what had to be done. You know that, right?”

“I know.” The words fell off his tongue as if they were the only reply to that question.

“You know, maybe Molly can take Harry and Rosie for a weekend and we could close up the shop early, have some time with just the two of us?”

A part of him became very interested in Lily’s suggestion, and it certainly seemed to take his mind off…well anything else really. He was about to turn around when they heard footsteps on the stairs and Lily stepped away, taking their half-finished plates to the sink.

“Alright,” Harry declared, bursting into the kitchen with his Hogwarts letter and a piece of muggle notebook paper in hand.

“I made a list. Can we go now? Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

Lily laughed from where she was rinsing the dishes and Severus felt a strange, irresistible pull at the corner of his mouth. He wanted to smile. Not smirk, but genuinely smile at something that made him truly happy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this feeling. He’d _never_ felt it for Potter.

‘ _Not Potter,’_ he reminded himself as he looked at the boy before him. ‘ _Snape.’_ Pride welled up in his chest. That was a new feeling too. He found that he _wanted_ to go to Diagon Alley. He wanted to take his son, _his son_ , to buy his robes and books and his first wand. As a Hogwarts Professor Severus had done his fair share of Muggle-born visits, though Dumbledore had preferred to send McGonagall or Sprout on those. But this wasn’t simply walking yet another strange child through their first introduction to the Wizarding World. This was _his_ child. Or at least, that’s what the strange memories of this world told him.

“Let me get dressed and we’ll go,” he told the boy.

“Alright,” Harry replied, though he fidgeted with the paper and parchment in hand, his patience hanging on a thread.

After the best shower of his life, or death, Severus checked his wardrobe and was actually surprised to see that he had just as much Muggle clothing as black Wizarding robes. At least those were mostly the same. He had no desire to wander through Muggle London and with no Muggle family in tow, he could Apparate right into the Leaky Cauldron. When he looked himself over in the mirror, at least he felt more like his old self. He looked younger, of course, but then if Harry and the Longbottom boy were only now turning eleven, then he _was_ younger. As a final preparation, he took up his wand from the nightstand and tucked it up his sleeve. This too was the same and his wand felt like an old friend in his hand, even though he had used it in the final battle against McGonagall less than two hours ago.

 _‘No,’_ he told himself. ‘ _It didn’t happen.’_ He never fought McGonagall because she had never thought him a traitor. He never killed Dumbledore. He never killed Lily. Not here. As he walked down the stairs to take his son to Diagon Alley, the Dark Mark a faded memory from another life, he was determined. He would live this gift, for as long as he was able.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus Snape dies in the Shrieking Shack and wakes up to a curious little girl. Inspired by Lily-Fox on Deviant Art.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this one just wouldn't get out of my head. So I'm going to continue on. I can't promise it's going to be a full-blown story, but I'm going to go as long as I can to see where this takes me. Be prepared for a lot of familiar faces and some OCs. Enjoy!

Chapter 2:

With a sharp _crack_ , Severus appeared in the alleyway behind the Leaky Cauldron with Harry clutching his arm and looking decidedly green. Severus glanced down at the boy nervously, not particularly wanting to deal with a sick child. Some part of him was concerned too. After all, Harry was his son, wasn’t he?

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, taking a deep breath and straightening up again. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

“We’ll Floo back,” Severus suggested, even though he didn’t particularly care for the Floo Network. It always left one covered in soot and there was too much chance of ending up in the wrong fireplace. But Harry seemed reassured by the suggestion and the grin that had only left his face when Severus had held out his arm for Harry to take back at the house was suddenly back. The boy dug into his pocket, pulling out the folded notebook paper.

“I’ll need books, and some new quills, Hogwarts robes—“

“A good cauldron,” Severus interjected.

“Of course,” Harry replied, rolling his eyes as if the suggestion was an old joke. Part of Severus wanted to take House points automatically, but he stopped himself, opting instead to take out his wand and tap the appropriate bricks to open the gateway.

Diagon Alley was bustling with school children. It was the end of July and most had received their Hogwarts letters by now and were doing their own shopping. Severus recognized more than a few former students, but none of them seemed to recognize him. How strange; perhaps the Severus in this world was _not_ a professor?

“Dad, can we go to Ollivander’s first?” Harry asked, already aiming for the simple, unassuming shop with a display of ivy wands in the window.

In the other times that he’d taken Muggle-born students to Diagon Alley, their first stop had always been to Gringotts to exchange muggle money and then the trips followed a fairly consistent pattern. Books, parchment and quills, potions tools and ingredients, robes, and then, at the very end, a wand. This was strategic, because as soon as they departed Ollivander’s, their trip concluded with a strong conversation about underage magic and a reminder not to miss the bus on September 1st.

Harry looked up at him, practically pleading. Any student who would’ve tried that look with him, Severus would have sneered at them and sentenced them to detention with Filch. If Potter had tried to pull that off, he would’ve scoffed at him and made some sort of derogatory comment about his bully of a father. But as with Rosie at the breakfast table, those eyes pierced through his will and he found himself agreeing before he even realized he’d opened his mouth.

“Yes, alright.”

“Yes!” Harry exclaimed, racing off towards the wandmaker’s shop. Just as it had been in Severus’ memories, Ollivander’s was still dusty and grimy and somehow seemed always empty despite being the best wandmaker in Britain. A bell somewhere in the back rang as they entered and Severus settled back against a display, watching in mild amusement as Harry looked all around the shop at the thousands of boxes. A soft thump made him jump and Ollivander appeared from between stacks of wand boxes.

“Ah! I thought it might be time, Mr. Snape.”

Harry looked back at his father, uncertainty in Lily’s green eyes. Severus nodded once, as close to a reassurance he would ever give. Harry nodded back and faced Ollivander, drawing himself up like a foolish Gryffindor.

_‘Certainly takes after his mother,’_ Severus found himself thinking idly.

“I’m here for a wand, sir,” Harry declared.

“Yes, and Severus. Ebony, thirteen and a quarter inches, with a phoenix tail feather core, if I’m not mistaken. And I usually am not. May I?”

Severus’ fingers found the end of his wand where it lay in his sleeve. Part of him wanted to refuse, the part that fought two wars and still remembers the burn of the Dark Mark on his arm. But as he looked at Harry, his son, who watched with wide, intrigued eyes, he removed his wand and handed it over to its maker.

Ollivander ran a hand over the wood before holding it up to his ear. Severus doubted he could hear anything, but wandmakers were a strange, eccentric group so Severus placated him. However, his stomach clenched as Ollivander frowned, just for a moment and looked at him as if he was looking for something he hadn’t seen before. It was only a moment before Ollivander seemed to recover and nodded.

“Yes, just as I remember. It has certainly served you well.”

“Yes,” Severus replied as he took his wand back from Ollivander and slipped it away. “But we’re not here for _my_ wand.”

“Of course!” Ollivander seemed to remember and with a flick of his wrist the dreaded tape measure appeared. Severus truly believed the ridiculous object was merely for show as it proceeded to measure nearly every inch of Harry, including the length of his nose. Severus remembered swatting the thing as a child when it had tried to do the same thing for him. Harry was much more patient, not even paying attention to it as he listened, enraptured by Ollivander’s lecture on elementary wandlore.

“Certainly, the wand chooses the wizard,” Ollivander declared, as he removed a box and drew out a light-colored wooden wand. “Let’s start here, shall we?”

The first wand spat out red sparks and the second shattered a nearby vase. The third knocked all the wands off the back shelf and the fourth did absolutely nothing at all. They went on and on and Severus began to wish they’d come to the wandmaker after getting all of Harry’s other things as he was thoroughly exhausted and a fair bit annoyed by the time Ollivander removed a wand of holly from the top of one of the furthest shelves.

“I think this should do it,” Ollivander said, though Severus noticed the way he seemed to brace behind his counter as Harry took the wand in hand. It didn’t explode anything on contact as the ninth wand had, so Severus’ hopes rose a bit. Closing his eyes, Harry gave the wand a hesitant wave. To the shock and relief of all, the wand sprouted a thousand glimmering stars and Harry smiled as they winked out all around him.

“Yes! Yes, I think that’s the one! Holly, eleven inches with a dragon heartstring core, like your mother. Nice and supple too,” Ollivander prattled as he boxed the wand up. “That will be seven Galleons.”

Severus handed the coins over mechanically, though his mind was racing. He’d been hit with a memory as Ollivander mentioned the holly wand. Potter had a holly wand as well with a core of phoenix feather, the brother of the Dark Lord’s. Severus had almost missed the core, and it wasn’t until he heard ‘dragon heartstring’ that he forced himself to relax.

‘ _It’s not Potter,_ ’ he told himself. _‘It’s Snape. Harry doesn’t have the scar. He’s not some prophesied one or a lamb being raised for the slaughter.’_

“He’s my son,” he muttered under his breath as Harry took the parcel and hugged it to his chest gleefully. Severus made a mental note to have that conversation about underage magic sooner rather than later.

“Dad?”

Harry had been speaking to him, though Severus had been too wrapped up in his own thoughts to hear.

“Yes?”

“I just thought maybe we could get my robes and then stop by the shop since it’s right next door.”

“Yes, of course.”

He gestured for Harry to lead the way, though the boy seemed to linger a bit, hesitant, suspicious. For being the spy who fooled the Dark Lord, Severus was making a piss poor performance of it now. Not even half a day together and already the boy was wary of him.

_‘Do something, otherwise he’ll think you’re someone Polyjuiced as his father. And then what will Lily say?’_

He wasn’t about to apologize. No matter how different this Severus’ life seemed to be, he doubted his alternate-self had suddenly started apologizing. But surely a small show of affection would not be remiss. As if it already knew the motion, Severus’s hand reached up and grabbed Harry’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze and the corners of his mouth raised just a bit. Anyone not familiar with the dark, generally brooding man would’ve seen it as a rather severe interaction. But Harry Snape was the son of Severus Snape and as he looked up at his father, he recognized the slight tilt of his lips for what it was. His father grinned at him.

The suspicion and worry were gone in an instant, replaced with a wide smile and his earlier excitement.

“Come on, it’s this way.”

Severus was content to let Harry take his hand and weave them through the crowd of witches and wizards going about their own business. He spotted the familiar exterior of Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, a common shop for purchasing Hogwarts robes. However, the shop that stood just to the right of Madam Malkin’s caught his attention and nearly made him come to a stand-still in the middle of the alley. Neat, gold lettering on a green sign declared “Snape and Co. Apothecary and Master Potioneers”.

It made sense now; Lily’s request that he stop by “the shop”, the clear fact that he was not as recognized as he had been as a teacher. He wasn’t a teacher in this life. He was a potioneer, a proud apothecary owner. As a small child, he hadn’t had much occasion to think about what his life would be like in the future. His father, the abusive alcoholic, had never allowed for dreams. He had to stay focused, otherwise he might’ve ended up on the wrong side of one of Tobias Snape’s drunken rages. It wasn’t until he’d gone away to Hogwarts that he’d started to entertain what he might do when he was finally of age and could leave. He excelled at Potions, he and Lily, but they’d also discovered that Severus also had a talent for spell creation. There had been talk about becoming masters someday. In his old life, that had quickly been dashed on a stone of hate and Death Eater revels.

“Dad?” Harry was at the door, his hand on the handle, but Severus had stopped, looking up at the green sign. He didn’t see it, his sight instead far away in a different time and place much older and darker, full of pain and loss and missed opportunity.

“Dad!” He grabbed his hand. Severus nearly jumped out of his skin, his wand springing to his hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Harry said frantically, releasing his father’s hand. “I know Mom says not to do that when you…go away…”

He’d done this before? He’d done this in front of _Harry_ before, otherwise Lily wouldn’t have said something like that.

“It’s not your fault,” Severus replied, stooping so that he was on level with the boy. He found himself searching those green eyes, desperate not to see in his son’s eyes what he had always hidden in his own; fear. He didn’t understand what was happening, Severus realized. Mostly, there was just uncertainty. But there, just in the back, was the tiniest flash and it made Severus’ heart ache. His son was afraid of him. Maybe not like Severus had been of his own father. But he _was_ afraid. How could he explain any of this so Harry could understand?

“Mom says sometimes you get caught up remembering stuff from the war that happened a long time ago,” Harry said quietly, glancing around to make sure nobody was paying them attention. “That’s why I’m not supposed to grab you, because of the bad stuff that happened. I’m sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s not your fault,” Severus repeated, pleading for Harry to somehow understand. “You’re right, sometimes I get…distracted. But I will never hurt you…or your sister.” And he meant it with all his heart and being. He would never hurt either of them, just as he would never hurt Lily again. No matter what happened.

Harry nodded. “Okay.” And then, he hugged him. Severus found himself wrapping his arms around the boy and squeezing back. The moment was brief and fleeting, but it sent a warmth through Severus’ chest like he hadn’t felt before. His own mother hadn’t really hugged him, and his father most certainly hadn’t laid a hand, except in anger, on the demon spawn his witch wife tricked him into. As they separated and Harry led the way to Madame Malkin’s, Severus decided he wouldn’t mind a few more of those.

Madame Malkin’s was packed. There were children everywhere in various stages of fittings. Madame Malkin and all of her apprentices and helpers flitted around the room, measuring, hemming, and dumping yards and yards of black Hogwarts robes on each family. They had to wait their turn, but finally Harry was placed up on a pedestal and one of the apprentices set about his robe fitting, pinning the lines so that the oversized robe fell properly. Harry wasn’t particularly big for his age, but then neither had been Severus. He hadn’t gained his height until around fourth year and then he’d sprouted over the summer and his mother had been forced to buy new robes instead of casting extension charms in the middle of the night where her husband couldn’t see.

The door jangled and, by habit, Severus turned to see who came in. It was another first-year student, toting her mother and father, obviously Muggles by how they looked around the robes shop with awe and a bit of shock. Severus recognized the incredibly bushy hair and over-sized teeth as the first-year positively beamed at all the activity. This was Hermione Granger. Somethings, it seemed, didn’t change. At the very back of their little party was another familiar face. Dressed in a Muggle dress and a gray wool sweater in July, looking to all the world like someone’s doting grandmother, was Minerva McGonagall. She smiled gently at Granger and bent down a bit, no doubt to explain the particulars. McGonagall had always been good with the muggle-borns. Severus had not.

Granger hopped up on the stool next to Harry, which meant Mr. and Mrs. Granger stood right beside Severus and Minerva beside them. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been trying to kill him. She’d thought him a murderer and a traitor. It was all he could do to keep her at bay, and even then, he’d lost. He’d fled, knowing this was a fight he couldn’t win, did not _want_ to win.

“Severus Snape.”

Hearing his name in that Scottish brogue made him feel as if he was back in school.

“Minerva,” he replied, respectfully.

“Severus, may I introduce the Grangers,” Minerva said and Severus accepted the obligatory handshakes because what was it with muggles and shaking each other’s hands?

“Robert Granger,” Mr. Granger replied, “and this is my wife Jane. Our little girl Hermione is starting at Hogwarts this fall.”

“Severus’ son, Harry, will be in the same year,” Minerva explained. “And Severus is our best supplier of ingredients, not to mention potions for our hospital wing. Everything is going well, I hope?”

“Of course,” Severus replied. He knew vaguely that the hellebore Lily had asked him to check on had something to do with the Hogwarts order. How he knew was as mysterious as his very presence in this world.

“Did you attend Hogwarts as well?” Jane Granger asked.

“A number of year ago,” Severus replied.

“Severus and his wife, Lily, are two very distinguished graduates,” Minerva told them, pride in her voice. Of course she would be proud of Lily, one of her Gryffindor lions. If they were Potions masters with an established shop and an account such as Hogwarts, then the masteries had not been earned in the last few years. To be a Potions master in one’s early thirties, let alone in one’s twenties was indeed a great accomplishment.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Harry?” Severus replied, surprised with himself how natural the response was off his tongue.

“Can Hermione come to my birthday party today?”

“Have you asked you parents yet?” Severus thought an extra few people wouldn’t make any difference to the party plans. From the way Lily seemed to discuss it, the birthday party this afternoon was sure to be sizeable with children running around everywhere. But, as it had been when he’d scolded Harry earlier today about chewing with his mouth open, the correction came easily and readily to him and flow much more naturally than any correction he’d made of a student when he’d been Potions Master and Head of Slytherin house.

“Mr. and Mrs. Granger, would Hermione be able to come to my party this afternoon?” Harry asked, tacking a “please” on the end for good measure. Granger, from where she stood on her own pedestal, sent a pleading look to her mother that Severus recognized from Rosie.

“It would be a good opportunity for Hermione to interact with more of her future schoolmates,” Minerva commented. “I’m assuming the Weasleys and Draco are coming as well?”

Severus nodded.

“I think we could manage that,” Mrs. Granger said at last.

“Alright! I’m going to show you my broom and our cat Nightshade, and wait until you see Mom’s ingredients garden. And maybe you can learn how to play Quidditch!”

Harry chattered Granger’s ear off all the way until the apprentice shoed him off the pedestal and Severus paid for the robes while Harry still stood by and talked about all of the things he wanted to show the Muggle-born girl.

“Harry, it’s time to go,” Severus told him, handing the boy his parcel of robes. “You’ll have plenty of time to speak with Hermione at the party today.” He provided the Grangers their address from some vague memory of hours spent at the Ministry with Lily attempting to complete a simple “change of address” form, before shepherding the still chattering Harry out the door.

“I can’t wait until the party this afternoon,” Harry declared as they stepped into Flourish and Blotts across the way to start on the list of textbooks he would need for the school year. With his wand already purchased, and the promise of getting to see his friends in just a few hours, filling out the rest of Harry’s school supplies was rather easy. Severus shrunk everything and tucked it into his robes pocket as they rounded off Harry’s list with a good, brand-new pewter cauldron, the exact kind Severus would have his students buy. It would last Harry for years, if he took care of it properly. And no son of two Potions masters was going to improperly care for his own cauldron.

When they had the last thing on the list, they started to make the trip back to the Leaky Cauldron to use their Floo, but Severus paused as they passed Eeylops Owl Emporium. The memory flashed before his eye of Potter, walking with a beautiful snowy owl perched on his arm. He couldn’t remember what the boy had called the bird, but it was clear how close their relationship was. In the back of his mind, Severus recalled a conversation, one evening before bed.

“What are your thoughts on buying Harry an owl, for school?” Lily had asked as they went about their nightly preparations.

“There are plenty of school owls for use,” Severus had replied. “And there is Orion as well.” The family’s hawk owl had a way of glaring at everyone, but he was strong and reliable and would certainly be able to handle a few extra flights to and from Hogwarts.

“I know,” Lily said, “But there is something about having a familiar, and the responsibility would be good for him.”

Severus had smirked. “It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind,” he’d said, a bit of a teasing edge to his voice.

“I think it would be a good birthday present from the two of us, but only if you agree.”

They had ended the conversation there and Lily hadn’t brought anything up before they’d left. The decision had been laid solely in Severus’ hands and as he stood outside of Eeylops and looked at the proud birds perched in the window, he made up his mind.

“This way,” he said simply, and Harry followed him into the shop.

“Does Orion need more owl treats?” Harry asked. “He likes the ones that scurry like real mice.”

“Good afternoon, sirs,” one of the sales-witches greeted them. “Can I assist you with anything today?”

“I would like to purchase an owl for my son.”

“Really?!” Harry shouted and the nearby owls squawked at him in chastisement.

The sales-witch smiled. “Your first owl then?”

Harry looked up at Severus, just to make sure, and Severus nodded encouragement.

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“Well then you’ll want to walk around a bit and take a look. We have the largest assortment in England. Over here are some smaller owls, good for quick deliveries. And on the back wall…” The sales-witch took Harry all over the store, showing off the different breeds of owl and Harry took it all in with wide-eyed wonderment. Occasionally he’d glance to Severus for reassurance, and he would provide it, either with a brief nod or a small gesture. There were a great many fine birds in the shop, but Harry didn’t seem particularly drawn to any of them, until Severus glimpsed the pure-white feathers and Harry stopped.

“What about this one?” he asked.

The sales-witch looked up at the snoozing owl. “She’s very pretty. She’s a snowy owl. Very versatile, if a bit ostentatious. She may draw some attention when doing her deliveries, but she has enough speed and agility to outfly anything.

The snowy turned her head and looked down at Harry with wide yellow eyes, bobbing her head a bit. Harry reached up, presenting his hand and the owl bent down, examining his fingers before nibbling at them gently, looking for a bit of food.

It was too much to ask that _his_ Harry be completely different from Harry Potter. As the boy ran a finger over the bird’s smooth feathers, Severus knew he’d be stuck with this reminder.

“She’s perfect,” Harry declared. “Dad?”

“Is she the one you would like?” Severus asked, hoping the answer would be a ‘no’, but knowing that it would be an unequivocal,

“Yes.”

“An excellent choice,” the sales-witch declared.

“We’ll need a full starter kit,” Severus added.

“I’ll put that together for you right away.” As the sales-witch hurried off, Harry held up his arm and the snowy hopped down from her perch to get a closer look at the little human she would be going home with. Severus moved around Harry’s back, looking over the creature. She really was in fine shape, strong and healthy.

“What are you going to name her?” he asked quietly.

Harry looked over the bird thoughtfully. “Hedwig,” he declared at last. “She looks like a warrior.”

“Indeed.”

They left Eeylops with Harry toting Hedwig in a cage, beaming from ear-to-ear. It was quickly coming on lunch time and Lily had told them before they left that the party guests would be arriving just after noon. They arrived at the Leaky Cauldron and stepped up to the fireplace, taking some Floo powder from the nearby pot. Harry went first confidently, throwing the powder into the flames and shouting “Snape Residence”. He spun off into the fireplace and Severus was quick to follow. He positively despised Floo travel as the soot made his lungs ache.

“Snape Residence,” he commanded and was whisked off. He arrived in the living room fireplace, covered in dust, but was glad to see Harry had arrived safely with his bird. He was already showing Hedwig off to his sister proudly.

“Daddy, when do I get an owl?” Rosie asked.

“When you’re older,” Severus replied, pulling out his wand and casting a cleaning charm on the two of them. He then reached into his pockets and re-enlarged the rest of Harry’s school items.

“Take these upstairs and pack them _neatly_ into your school trunk,” Severus told him.

“I’ll help!” Rosie declared, gathering up a few packages that were a bit too big for her, but somehow managing to carry them up the stairs after her brother anyways.

The house was decorated in a riot of colors, filled with banners proclaiming a number of Quidditch teams, from the Chudley Cannons and the Appleby Arrows, to the more dubious Falmouth Falcons. Over the kitchen where a number of dishes were already sitting out under heating charms, a banner proclaimed “Happy Birthday Harry!” in flashing gold and silver letters and a little chaser flew in and out of the dips and curves of the letters.

“What do you think?” Lily asked, beaming at the display.

Severus sighed. “It is very…colorful.”

Lily laughed, stepping up on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Don’t be such a spoilsport. How did everything go?”

“Fine. We saw Minerva escorting a Muggle-born.”

“Oh how is she?”

“As stubborn as ever. Harry invited the girl to the party. Hermione Granger.”

“That should be fine,” Lily replied. “We have more than enough, and you know Molly will bring more as well. Speaking of…”

The clock over the mantle chimed the hour and the fireplace flared green again and the woman in question stepped out, carrying her own covered dish.

“Hello dear!” Molly Weasley greeted, moving to greet Lily with a big hug. It was just in time too, as the Floo flared again and out came another Weasley, one of the twins. And then another, and another, until all but the two oldest Weasley children stood in Severus’ living room, tracking soot all over the place. Arthur Weasley was the last through.

“Severus,” he greeted, “good to see you.” They shook hands amiably. Severus had never really had anything against Arthur. He was a good man and he cared for his family, even if sometimes he was stretched beyond his means. He was a good wizard too.

“Sorry about that,” Arthur nodded towards the soot that was being tracked everywhere. He waved his wand and the soot lifted off the floor and his family’s clothing.

“Severus, good to see you,” Molly Weasley said, and then, to Severus’ alarm, she reached up and pulled him into a hug. Severus met Lily’s eyes across the room and she had her hand over her mouth, suppressing a chuckle.

“Yes, well, good to see you too, Molly,” Severus replied awkwardly when she at last let him stand.

Harry and Rosie had heard the commotion and came thundering down the stairs.

“Ron!”

“Ginny!”

They threw themselves into the fray, greeting their friends before mercifully pulling them out to the yard.

“Is everything about ready?” Molly asked Lily. “I brought the pie Harry likes.” She and Lily disappeared into the kitchen.

“How is everything in the shop?” Arthur asked.

The shop. Severus groaned. In all of the activity, he’d forgotten to check in on the hellbore shipment like Lily had asked. He _never_ forgot to do something so simple before.

Arthur chuckled. “That bad?”

“No,” Severus replied. “I just forgot to check in on our trip to Diagon Alley this morning. Lily asked me to before we left.”

Arthur shrugged. “Children often make us forget. I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

There was a knock at the door and Severus moved to answer it. Standing on the steps, looking just as he remembered from before the war, was Lucius Malfoy.

“Severus,” Lucius greeted, properly, but cordial. Narcissa stood just behind him with Draco.

“Hello, Uncle Severus,” Draco greeted him. Severus was surprised at the familiarity. Draco had been his godson, but they’d always maintained a certain distance. It seemed, however, that this Severus did not.

“Come in, it’s good to see you, Draco.”

Draco gave him a brief hug on his way in the door before hurrying off towards the ruckus in the yard.

“It’s good to see you again, Severus,” Narcissa said, greeting him with the customary two kisses on either cheek as would befit a close family friend.

“Thank you for coming,” Severus replied. “Lily and Molly are in the kitchen.”

“Thank you.” And she swept off leaving Severus with Lucius. The last time Severus had seen the man before him, he’d been the withered husk of the man Severus had known. It was as if they’d stepped back in time, and perhaps they had, in a way.

“Severus, business is good, I presume?”

At first, he didn’t really know. But with the Hogwarts order, Severus had to assume business was just fine.

“Of course,” he replied, before a glimpse of memory passed through his thoughts, he, Lily, and Lucius with a couple of stone-faced solicitors, sitting around a table with contracts in front of them. They signed and Severus and Lucius shook hands. In exchange for a start-up investment, Lucius would become a minority partner. Fifteen percent of profits, a favor really but then if it weren’t for Severus and his persuasive tongue, Lucius would’ve been rotting away in Azkaban.

“Draco is ready for his first year?” Severus asked, hoping to fall back on an easy topic.

“He’s been packed for weeks now,” Lucius replied, though Severus could clearly see the flash of pride in his old friend’s eyes.

“Harry and I went to purchase his things earlier today.”

“I’m sure it was crowded. They say this is to be one of the largest classes in recent years. Plenty of witches and wizards like you and Lily, marrying young in the middle of a war.”

“I wouldn’t have done it any other way,” Severus replied firmly.

Lucius smiled in amusement. “Yes, you always had an eye for her in school,” he said knowingly. “No matter, what’s done is done, and if you hadn’t, Narcissa would not have a most beloved godson.”

Narcissa as godmother to Harry. _Merlin help us_ , Severus thought as the door once again rung.

“I will leave you to play host,” Lucius said, sweeping off as Severus reached for the door. As he opened it, his hand immediately fell to his wand. Standing on his doorstep was his sworn enemy, James Potter.


End file.
